When the Psalm Breaks
by kira66
Summary: This was inspired by the episode The 23rd Psalm. My take on what happened after Claire told Charlie she didn't want him sleeping near her and Aaron.
1. Chapter 1

"**You lied to me, Charlie."**

Her words echoed in his head as he stared down at the brown baggy in his hand. It was only one baggy out of God only knew how many more he had stashed around the jungle. For the first time in months, he had nothing holding him back. There was nothing left for him to return to. No reason for him to fight his craving, his need.

"**Look, I can't have you around my baby, okay?"**

He closed his eyes trying to block out the words that had shattered his fragile little world. His hand clenched into a fist around the baggy of heroin as he brought both hands up to cover his ears. But the words wouldn't go away. He had managed to screw things up without even realizing it.

"**Charlie, I don't want you sleeping anywhere near us, okay?"**

The statue was just a reminder. A reminder that he was clean and intended to stay as such. That is, he _had_ intended to stay clean for Claire and Aaron's sake. But he didn't have them anymore. She didn't want anything to do with him.

"**Just _go_."**

When his eyes reopened and his hands dropped to his lap, darkness covered him. His torch had long since burned out leaving him in the pitch black and alone with his small stash of Virgin Mary statues and their contents. The baggy in his hand spilled its contents onto his palm, having been ruptured from his tight grip.

Sad, empty eyes stared at the powder. His salvation but at the same time his damnation. Why shouldn't he do it? What did he have left to live for? Being an outcast in the world was one thing but being an outcast on the island was another. He was sure that by now the news of what happened had spread to everybody. He was also sure that they'd all back Claire's choice. She had her baby to think of, after all.

"_Can't have a junkie hanging around the tot."_ He thought, ruefully. "How did this happen?" He asked the darkness. "Why me?" He whispered not expecting an answer.

"Because they do not respect you nor will they ever." Came a voice from the darkness.

His eyes widened as he struggled to stand. He didn't recognize the voice. The baggy and the powder dropped to the ground in his haste, forgotten. "Who...who's there?" He struggled to calm his racing heart.

"You are nothing in their eyes." A different voice spoke, this time from directly in front of him. "They have more respect for the seaweed that washes up on the beach." The new voice had a vague Jamaican accent to it.

He swallowed hard, stumbling backward away from the voice but tripping over a downed tree. "How do you know that?" Sweat beaded upon his forehead and above his upper lip.

"We know all that goes on here." The first voice spoke again and something sparked. A man appeared out of the darkness holding a torch.

The second man stepped into the light of the torch. "We are soldiers of the island." He answered, simply.

He stared from his place on the ground. It was obvious that these two men weren't from camp so that could mean only one thing... "The others." He whispered. "You're them...apart of them, aren't you?"

"Others..." Both men shifted closer. "Yes." The first man answered and shifted his torch to the side to get a better look at Charlie. "We have been watching you."

"Watching me...why?" He was beginning to feel the onset of panic. This couldn't be good.

"Because...you are like us." The second man stated as crouched down and pulled out one of the hidden statues. He turned it over in his hands. "You are an outcast now. Your friends have abandoned you. We wish to help you." He passes the statue to the other man.

"The...They haven't abandoned me!" He shot towards the second man with the accent.

"Then why are you out here, all alone?" The second man asked as he tucked the statue into a bag that hung off his crude belt. "Why did the woman make you leave?"

"**Charlie, I don't want you sleeping anywhere near us, okay?"**

He gritted his teeth when the memory of her words assaulted him once again. "How did you know about that?" The panic was beginning to fade. These two didn't seem to be a threat. They didn't even have any weapons that he could see. Now he was just feeling wary.

"I am called Rio and this Jax." The accented man motioned towards the man holding the torch. He didn't bother answering the question.

Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet. "Charlie." He heard himself saying without hesitation. "What do you want from me?"

"We want you to help us." Jax replied as shifted the torch towards the direction of the beach camp.

"The boy must not be found. The island will not allow it." Rio kept his eyes on Charlie.

"The boy?" He wracked his mind trying to figure out who he was speaking of. "Michael's kid? Walt?"

"We want you to observe the father and tell us of his actions. We will meet you here every three rotations of the sun." Jax turned his attention back to the conversation.

He just stared at them. "You want me to spy on them?" He whispered.. "Are you crazy? They're my friends!"

"They are not but you need proof of this. Tonight when you return, no one will invite you to share their fire nor will they share the days food with you. That will be your proof then you will help us." Rio stated as he stepped back into the shadows and disappeared into the inky blackness without a sound.

Jax placed his hand into his bag and pulled out a small metal object and handed it to Charlie when he passed. He stuck the torch into the ground beside the burnt one before turning towards the younger man. "You will need that tonight. The ocean air is turning cool." Then he was gone just like Rio.

He looked down at the object and held it up into the torch light. "A lighter..." He pulled the torch out of the ground and made his way back towards the camp.

He stopped at the edge of the jungle and eyed the flickering fires and laughing faces. He needed to prove them wrong. Fingers tightened around the torch as he moved between the fires, head held high. He reached the waters edge with not even a hello or where you been? His eyes clouded over with pain and truth. They were right.

Turning towards the people he had once considered friends, he let his eyes drift over each person. Finally he made his way to the farthest edge of their camp. He gathered some nearby dried pieces of driftwood into a pile. He plunged the torch into the sand and brought the lighter down, flicking it open. He snapped it twice before the wood caught and a small fire appeared. He placed the lighter into his pocket and wrapped his arms around himself. The wind was, indeed, cooler than it had been. His stomach grumbled but no one ventured near. His mind was made up and his eyes searched for Michael, spotting him sitting with Hurly and Locke. His eyes narrowed but never moved from the other man.

Somewhere in the back of his mind the rational part of him was warring to get out. It was trying to tell him that these were his friends and _the others _couldn't be trusted. But he ignored it. He had his proof just like Rio had said.

* * *

**Authors Note  
**

Ok, this is my first Lost story so go easy on me. I know that it prolly isn't the best in the world but blame my muse. It's his fault for mating with the plot bunny running around in my head since Wednesday. This story is a result of their union. Muse + Plot Bunny This story!


	2. Chapter 2

The following month passed slowly for Charlie, who was finding out that spying was a lot harder than he had first anticipated. At first he tried watching Michael from a distance but that only served to make the other _shoree's, _as his new friends called them, suspicious of his actions. His next attempt at watching the black man didn't wok either. So he gave up his idea of twenty-four hour surveillance and settled for just casual observance, which seemed to work.

Every three days he headed out into the jungle to report his findings to Jax and/or Rio. At first there really wasn't anything to report. Michael had been calmed by Jack and Locke. But as the days wore on, Michael's patience, and it would appear sanity, slipped away. And today, he finally snapped. So Charlie waited to deliver this news with a learned patience.

"What news do you bring, Charo?" Jax questioned Charlie when he arrived, using a name that had been given to the younger man by his new friends.

He didn't even flinch at the sudden appearance of the other man. He was used to their quiet movements. "The father is no longer with the shorees. He took a weapon and left. Several shorees went after him."

"Who else has left the shore?" Jax inquired.

"Jack, Locke and Sawyer left shortly after Michael did. Kate followed a short time later." He stated.

"Hm, I will relay this news to Rio so he can alert one of our hunting parties to be on watch for them. You have done us a service, Charo." Jax quietly praised the younger man, knowing how he needed it.

"You will not kill them, will you?" He asked after he took the time to absorb the praise.

"That is not for me to say. The island...only she can decide their fate." Jax dropped a crudely made sack onto the jungle floor between them.

He reached down and picked the sack up, slinging it over his shoulder. "Fate..." He trailed off. "The island will spare their lives." He stated as he turned away from Jax and started back down a trail that only he knew about.

Jax pondered his words for a moment then called out to Charlie. "The island has given you a reward for your help, Charo. Do not ignore it for if you do...you do her great disservice." And with that said he disappeared into the jungle.

He didn't even slow his pace when he heard Jax's parting words. His job was done for now and wouldn't continue until Michael returned. He was going to enjoy his free time as best as he could being stuck in an area with people who either ignored him or didn't even care enough to do that; they just pretended he didn't exist. And as painful as it was for him to think about, Claire fell into that last category.

* * *

**Authors Notes**

Well, there is chapter two. It's short, I know. But I couldn't think of anything else to write there. I tried to follow close to the timeline of the show but I had to tweak it just a bit by saying a month passed instead of only a day. It makes it sound better. Anyways, it's up to you to decide if I continue from here. I have a vague idea where I would head if I were to write more.


	3. Chapter 3

He sat, staring at the moon bathed ocean. All was quiet around him. Everyone was asleep. Everyone except for him. Charlie couldn't get the images of his dream, nay, nightmare from his mind.

Over three hours ago he had awoke in a sweat, shaking badly with his heart racing. He was unable to get back to sleep after that and settled for watching the ocean instead. Images of the nightmare dancing around in his head, taunting him.

The lapping of the waves quickly calmed his racing heart and the shaking faded into an occasional shiver. He turned his eyes away from the water and searched the darken shoreline for Claire's campsite. He strained his ears to listen for any sign of distress and after hearing none, returned his troubled gaze back ocean.

Soon his mind drifted off, replaying the nightmare that had woke him out of a sound sleep.

* * *

"_Aaron's in danger, Claire!" Charlie had tried to worn his former friend but received nothing but a cold shoulder._

'_Dammit, hate me all you want but don't throw away your childs safety!" He tried to stress the importance of his words but she continued to ignore him._

_He could do nothing but watch in horror as the basket carrying Aaron was swept off the shore by a wave. "What are you all sitting there for!" He cried as no one on the beach moved to try and save the, now crying, child._

_Not bothering to strip off any of his clothes, he ran towards the water and waded out towards the basket but just as his hand touched the handle a wave swallowed it._

_

* * *

_He shook his head and sighed. "Is this to be my fate then?" He asked the darkness. "To go crazy in my sleep? That's just bloody brilliant." He mumbled. 

"Or is this the reward that Jax spoke of?" Now this idea had merit and deserved further thought. "A reward of nightmares? That doesn't sound like much of a reward unless...It was a warning?" He continued to talk, quietly, to himself. "Aaron's in danger." He whispered as he turned around again and looked in the direction of Claire's campsite. "How am I supposed to help him when I'm not allowed near him!" He growled in frustration, twin fists slammed into the sand.

* * *

**Authors Note**

Blah, another short chapter. To make matters worse, this one sucked. It was meant to be a filler to lead up to Wednesdays show. Another chapter will be out shortly after the show airs...I hope. All reviews are welcome. Even if it's to tell me that it sucked and should be scrapped.


End file.
